


Jinx

by theroguesgambit



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, BAMF Stiles, Cursed!Derek, Fluff, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 09:47:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2383802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theroguesgambit/pseuds/theroguesgambit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Uncle Peter had always said that dating witches is a bad idea. Which isn’t strictly true. Breaking up with them, however, is.<br/>--<br/>Derek is cursed by a vengeful ex, and now everything in town seems to be out to maim him. Luckily a certain, cocky, amber-eyed stranger keeps showing up to help him out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jinx

**Author's Note:**

> coulormehclear said: Clumsy/unlucky Derek that is constantly saved by Stiles? They don't know each other or anything but when a piano is falling out of the sky with Derek under it, Stiles is there to push him out of the way. Doesn't have to be au. Please <3 :)

“Oh you’ve _got_ to be—“ is all he has time to get out before the next disaster hits – an entire tower of canned soups collapsing as he makes his way up the aisle. At least this one isn’t life threatening, Derek thinks in a quiet, resigned sort of way as a wave of metal cans slams into his legs, sending him tripping, stumbling, and falling to sprawl out helplessly on his back in the middle of the store.

Not life threatening. He tries very hard to hold onto that.

A few seconds after the last cans are done rattling, Derek hears a low whistle.

“Man, looks like those cans really had it out for you.”

“They’re just foot soldiers,” he grumbles at the too-bright ceiling light, trying to remind himself of that so he doesn’t end up crushing about a hundred and fifty hands with his bare fist.

“Just following orders, huh?” The voice teases. “Well then, I’ve gotta give them credit. It was a pretty good ambush.”

A shadow shifts over him, a hand being offered out. Derek redirects his sullen stare to find a young man with mussed brown hair and smirking, amber eyes standing over him. Derek huffs for a second, but takes the hand and lets himself be pulled upward.

“The universe got a grudge against you or something?”

“Or something,” Derek agrees, dropping his hand back to his side the second he’s on his feet. A store clerk is making his way over, and Derek’s teeth grit. So much for being home in time to make dinner.

“I’ll help restack it,” he says before anyone can start shouting. After all, he might not have touched the cans, but he’d decided to walk past them knowing full well he’s cursed.

.-

Uncle Peter had always said that dating witches is a bad idea. Which isn’t _strictly_ true. Breaking up with them, however, is.

.-

The next time Derek sees the amber-eyed kid, he’s making his way across a parking lot, heading for the library and their clandestine section about spells and curse-breaking. He’s watching the sky for threats when a stray patch of wet ground leaves him stumbling (and what the hell, it hasn’t rained in over a week) and then there’s the sound of a car moving, a screech of wheels, and Derek has no time to do anything more than tense and prepare for impact.

Until a hand’s gripping his arm, wrenching him out of the way hard.

The car continues to rumble through the lot, its driver oblivious or unconcerned about the man it had just nearly run over. Derek scowls after it, and a hand smacks down on his shoulder.

“Do you have _any_ self-preservation instincts? Close your eyes and wait for the end, my god.”

It’s the same guy from the grocery store: soft looking spikes of brown hair and pale, mole-covered skin that’s started to go flushed from frustration. Derek glances down at the hand still gripping his arm, before his gaze flits back up. The guy doesn’t get the hint though, still gripping his sleeve like he might have to jerk Derek to safety again at any moment. (Which he might, considering, but it’s not like he knows that.)

“Wouldn’t have killed me,” Derek offers, shrugging a little. “We’re in a parking lot.”

“Oh, so broken bones and bleeding’s no big deal though, huh? Look, I didn’t sign up to be traumatized by your organs spilling out all over the parking lot, or having my day wasted calling 911 and waiting for paramedics to show. Be a little considerate to the people around you, geez.”

The guy’s breathing hard, neck flushed from ranting when he finally winds down, dropping his hand from Derek’s sleeve. Derek snorts.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to yell at someone who’s just nearly been run over.”

“Yeah, probably, I…”

Derek rolls his eyes, cutting off what’s probably about to turn into a stammering apology.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll try to avoid getting maimed in the future.”

The guy relaxes, glances around the open lot idly before smirking.

“Wait, I get it. You’ve angered the grocery store gods, haven’t you?”

Because it turns out they’re in the parking lot of the very same supermarket. Derek’s lips quirk.

“Something like that.”

.-

The third time hardly counts as a rescue. The coffee Derek orders ends up boiling, literally boiling, in his cup, and when he goes to take a sip he ends up spitting and spilling it all over himself in surprise. The angry red marks start to fade as soon as they spring up, but Amber Eyes is right there, handing him napkins and shouting at the barista about faulty machines and ushering him into the bathroom to run cold water over the burns.

Derek dabs at the stains on his shirt idly for a few minutes. When he comes back out, the other man’s gone.

.-

The fourth time is when Derek finally learns the guy’s name. He’s ranting at Derek again, scolding him over being stupid enough to walk past a construction zone -  “I mean, have you _noticed_ you’re about the least lucky person ever, why would you tempt fate like that, dude?”

Derek lets him shout until he feels the rant winding down, before:

“You good?”

The guy lets out a long breath.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I’m… Stiles.”

Derek’s brow twitches. Is that some new slang? Is he seriously at that age where he starts missing out on the current slang?

“What does that mean?”

The guy just rolls his eyes like that’s a question he’s heard too many times.

“It means you should probably be saying ‘thank you, Stiles, for saving me from a seriously inconvenient maiming.’”

Derek finds himself fighting a laugh, offering: “Derek.”

Stiles’ face brightens.

“Well then, Derek. I seem to be bailing you out of trouble a lot. Maybe I should give you my number in case you end up needing help again.”

Derek can’t deny being tempted. The guy’s clever, passionate, good in a crisis and definitely attractive. But then… dating humans comes with a lot of drawbacks. Their vulnerability, all the secrets. …Not that he’d had much more success dating from the supernatural pool.

Still.

Stiles shifts a little, smile starting to fall as Derek fails to answer.

“I mean, never mind, that was—“

“No,” Derek cuts in, surprising himself. “It’s not… this isn’t a great time. Just got out of a kind of messy relationship. Still dealing with the fallout.”

“Oh,” Some of the tension eases, Stiles lips quirking again into a hint of its usual smile. “Cool then, I get that. I guess I’ll probably see you around again. Let me know if things get less… complicated.”

He licks his lips, quick and nervous, and Derek finds himself watching the movement. He swallows, mouth feeling strangely dry.

“Definitely.” Life will probably never get uncomplicated enough to date a human, but he can still dream a little, can’t he?

He manages to tear his gaze away, turning to make his way back up the street… and that’s when the piano falls.

He didn’t even _see_ it dangling overhead, up by a sixth floor window when the rope snaps. He feels it falling, tenses to move, knowing there’s no way even his reflexes will save him in time…

Until suddenly the piano’s not dropping anymore, just dangling in the air about five feet from Derek’s head. Derek steps out from under it, staring.

“ _Seriously_?” Stiles is snapping, not nearly shocked enough. Sounding… indignant. “A piano? Who even does that in real life?”

Derek spins to watch him stalking up the sidewalk, one hand outstretched, a golden spark flickering in his amber eyes.

A witch.

“Christ, I knew I was tracking a petty jerk but I didn’t realize he was so damn uncreative.”

Derek’s mouth feels dry.

“Tracking?”

And Stiles’ face does that familiar uncomfortable-apologetic scrunching thing.

“Yeah, I um… I might be sort of an enforcer of proper magical conduct in Beacon County? I would’ve mentioned but it seemed more like maybe a third date conversation. Besides, not like you mentioned the whole howls at the moon thing either so no right to get mad.”

Derek stares.

“So… you’ve been showing up everywhere I’m in trouble because…”

“I sensed the energy of a curse on you.” He flashes Derek a grin, before focusing his attention on lowering the piano back to the ground. “Not to mention you’re kind of ridiculously hot and fun to talk with. Always take the bonuses in the job when you can get them.” The piano hits the ground and he turns to smile at Derek, jutting out one hip and clapping his hands together like he’d just done hard labor.

“So am I right in assuming this bad luck stuff is the fallout from your ex?”

Derek’s still too shocked to speak coherently, and not a little distracted by the angle of Stiles’ hips, his dancing, still sparking eyes. He manages a nod, and Stiles grins.

“Alright, then let’s catch ourselves a witch so you can take me out to dinner.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Come find me on Tumblr](http://halekingsourwolf.tumblr.com)


End file.
